The Color of Blood
by Old English Game
Summary: Of all the nights for Schultz to actually bother to load his gun... K for blood


**In the forums we were discussing the episode "Happiness is a Warm Sergeant" and Tuttle pointed out that both Schultz and LeBeau can't stand the sight of blood, and wondered if there might be a story in that.**

**So, despite the fact that I've spent the past weeks agonizing over the MSEs and Ginger Tea, I slapped this sucker together for you guys in three hours.**

**Enjoy!**

"_Halt!"_

Merde.

LeBeau spun, sticking his hands in the air, automatically plastering a cheery smile on his face, "Langenscheidt! What a pleasure to see you."

The corporal frowned, and shoved the end of his rifle into LeBeau's chest. LeBeau had no doubt that even if his finger had been anywhere near the trigger, there wouldn't be any ammunition in his rifle, "You should not be out here! What are you doing?"

"Digging for mushrooms," LeBeau answered honestly.

Langenscheidt huffed, "Jolly joker."

"That sounds like something Sergeant Schultz would say," LeBeau jabbed.

The corporal winced, "Don't tell anyone."

"Your secret is safe with me," LeBeau assured, "If you let me go."

For a moment it looked like he truly might be considering it, and then he shook his head, "_Nein!_ You are trying to escape. Go." He started to nudge LeBeau back to camp with his rifle, when a rustle far off made both men pause.

"_Halt!_ Who goes there!"

LeBeau relaxed. Schultz.

"If you do not reveal yourself, I will shoot!"

"Is he trying to impress the Kommandant?" LeBeau murmured.

Langenscheidt shook his head, "His wife told him he wasn't manly enough, I think."

"I am warning you! I _will shoot!"_

"You don't think he'll actually shoot, will he?" LeBeau grinned.

Langenscheidt snorted and shook his head, "Never." He raised his voice to call out, "Sergea-"

And Schultz fired.

"Schultz!" LeBeau shouted.

The big guard came into view, one hand on his head and the other clutching his rifle, apparently still reeling from having fired for the first time in months, "LeBeau! It is you!"

"Of course it's me, who else would it be?" LeBeau snapped, "I can't believe you fired your gun! I can't believe you _loaded _it!"

Schultz moaned, "LeBeau, Gretchen says that I am nothing but a teddy bear. I thought that was a good thing, but apparently it is not anymore. So I said, Gretchen, I am a Sergeant of the Guard! And she said, no, you big fat lump - well, she used other words when the kids were gone - when was the last time you fired your gun at anything in that lousy dump? And -" He stopped suddenly, jaw dropping.

A shaky hand grabbed LeBeau's shoulder and he spun, "Langenscheidt!" The next minute he saw the blood running down the guard's leg and took a step back.

Langenscheidt gripped his shoulder tighter, not letting him get anywhere.

"S-Sergeant -," He bit out.

Schultz had frozen stiff.

"Sergeant!" He was looking a little panicky (which was understandable).

LeBeau shook his head, taking a tentative half-step forward and a whole step back, and then raised his eyes heavenward and put an arm around Langenscheidt, "Sit down. Easy."

When they were on the ground he looked back at the guard. Not his leg, which was spewing unfortunate amounts of blood, but his face. He was going pale.

He turned on Schultz, who had yet to budge, "Schultz! He's on your side. You help him."

Schultz' eyes widened and his mouth worked emptily for a moment before he demanded, "I outrank you! You help him!"

"_You _shot him!"

"I don't do well with blood!"

"Well neither do I, Schultz!"

"_You're_ the prisoner!"

"Exactly!"

Schultz squeezed his eyes shut and moaned softly, and then begrudgingly got down on his knees next to Langenscheidt, "Alright, Karl. Where does it hurt?" He kept his eyes anywhere _but_ Langenscheidt.

"I hope you're joking," Langenscheidt frowned. He'd clamped his hands over his thigh but, when LeBeau dared to look at it, it wasn't helping much.

"Okay," He muttered finally, shutting his eyes again as he tugged his scarf from around his neck, "You owe me dry-cleaning services," He muttered as he folded it up and pressed it against the wound.

Langenscheidt grunted softly.

LeBeau looked up at Schultz, holding his hands away from himself,"You're not being very helpful."

"Neither of you are being very helpful," Langenscheidt muttered.

"Don't look at me!" LeBeau exclaimed, "He's _your _ally, and _your _commander, your well-being is _his _responsibility."

Schultz squeaked, "My responsibility! I am a non-commissioned officer, which is almost the same as an officer." He enunciated his _c_s sharply, "And you know they never take responsibility!"

"The _good_ ones do! Don't you think if Colonel Hogan were here, _he_ would be helping? And Langenscheidt isn't even _his _man! They aren't even on the same side!" LeBeau said indignantly.

Schultz made a face, "Are you comparing me to Colonel Hogan? You are crazy!"

"_You're_ crazy!"

"Hey?" Langenscheidt offered weakly, prompting both of them to pause their quickly-escalating argument, "I don't usually beg for attention, but… ummm…"

LeBeau looked back at him and gawked, "You're white!" He was much paler than he had been a minute and a half before.

"Of course he is, he's German."

Langenscheidt ignored Schultz, "Well, all my blood is running out of my leg, I imagine I would be." He winced.

LeBeau shuddered, and then said, "Someone needs to go back to camp and get help."

"I will go!" Schultz stood up abruptly, "Don't worry, I will be back soon. Langenscheidt!" The corporal twitched. "Do not let the cockroach escape."

"_Nein,_ I will not," Langenscheidt sighed.

"_Gut."_ As soon as Schultz had taken off through the bushes, Langenscheidt murmured, "Cockroach, please don't escape."

LeBeau sighed, "Langenscheidt, as much as I want to, I will not."

"_Danke,"_ He nodded, and then asked quietly, "So - how did you stay alive this long if you can't stand the sight of blood?"

LeBeau paused, and thought a moment, "Good luck, and good friends. And I closed my eyes and hid a lot." He paused, "If I'm being completely honest, I feel kind of bad about it."

Langenscheidt shook his head, "Lots of people do stupid things but that doesn't mean they're bad. They're just better at other things. You're a good cook."

LeBeau nodded and paused to think, "Have I ever given you any of my strudel?"

"Not directly. Sometimes Sergeant Schultz shares."

"He _what?"_

"Oh, not willingly." He smiled shakily.

LeBeau nodded, "That makes more sense." Then he looked back at the sky and pulled in a breath. _Do not like blood_. "I hope Schultz gets back soon."

Langenscheidt grunted, "Don't count on it. He's fat."

"I've noticed."

The guard giggled and LeBeau winced as the movement made fresh blood soak the scarf.

Langenscheidt froze, "Oh… sorry." He offered a weak laugh.

"I think you're losing too much blood," LeBeau said, "I can… feel it between my fingers."

"Don't pass out, _bitte._"

"Not trying to," He breathed. He gave Langenscheidt an awkward attempt at a reassuring pat on the shoulder, forcing himself not to feel queasy when the blood dried on his hand cracked.

"Langenscheidt!" Schultz' yell projecting through the woods brought smiles to both of their faces, "LeBeau! They were right over - there you are! Oh, good, you didn't leave."

"I can't really go anywhere," Langenscheidt sighed.

"I think he was talking to me," LeBeau gladly stepped back and let the two corporals and Rosen, the medic, quickly moved Langenscheidt onto the stretcher they brought with them.

Colonel Hogan, who had probably tagged along uninvited, stepped up next to LeBeau, "You okay?" He eyed his corporal up and down.

LeBeau shrugged, "Yes, but no."

"Sounds great." Hogan clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked at the others, "Langenscheidt okay?" Both were pretending not to understand the conversation in German.

Rosen looked up, surprised Hogan had even asked, "_Ja,_ he will be good." He looked at LeBeau, and nodded approvingly.

Schultz smiled, obviously relieved that he hadn't inadvertently killed his own man, "With Rosen, that is as close to a thank you as you are going to get, cockroach."

LeBeau rolled his eyes.

"LeBeau?" Langenscheidt asked from the stretcher.

"_Oui?"_

"_Danke."_

LeBeau smiled a little, "You're welcome."

With a jerk of his head and a few short words, Rosen had the two corporals start moving back to camp.

"Come on," Schultz waved Hogan and LeBeau ahead and followed along behind, apparently quite content to let Rosen handle the situation.

"You're swaying," Hogan murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

LeBeau nodded, "I know."

"You did pretty good."

He shook his head, "I'm taking a shower when we get back to camp."

Then he made the mistake of looking down at his hands.

"Oh." He gasped.

That was when he passed out.

**A/N: I'm assuming Langenscheidt's English is pretty good. I'm also reasonably certain Schultz' position would be non-commissioned officer, and I just got this weird déjá vû feeling I think I dreamed about writing this author's note. Sketch.**


End file.
